


Facing Reality

by Adryssos



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Cruelty, Multi, Prostitution, Slavery, Survival, let's just say Jensen won't be happy, tags tba once plotting happens, that's the general setting for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adryssos/pseuds/Adryssos
Summary: Adam may get the same looks and comments as the other Augs in Prague, but his life is not nearly as much of a struggle to survive as theirs is. ... until it finally catches up with him in some of the least pleasant ways imaginable.(This will get dark. As dark as I originally hoped the game would be, though it only ended up scratching the surface of what I think it could have done. We'll see how it goes.)





	1. The Day It Went To Hell

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is really just the introduction. We'll face the actual problems and all the fun ways Jensen learns to deal with them in the following ones.

Sometimes, Adam thought back to life before 2027, before the attack, before his fall - before the augmentations. How insignificant all his previous worries seemed now. After the Incident, life had become Hell for many augs, and he had counted his blessings that he did not have to depend on a steady flow of neuropozyne to get through the days. He didn't know how he would have gone on. He counted them yet again when he was offered a place with TF29, a job that would keep him occupied and off the streets, a semblance of a normal life - but reality was not kind to people who ignored it, who thought they could circumvent it.

A few months after he had settled into this arrangement, when the attacks on both sides of mankind were becoming more and more frequent, life caught up with him. He was on a stroll through Prague, as relaxing as that could still be for him with bigoted police and the ever-growing segregation always present wherever he went. Passerbys would glare at him, 'naturals' would snicker or even shout slurs at him - so far, Adam had decided that 'clank' was the kindest of them - and even children would stop to gawk. Not to mention subway rides or the days after more augmented terrorist attacks. Life was unbearable then, to the point where even he avoided leaving his apartment if he could at all manage, despite his trust in his gear and his strong back when it came to insults.

He was just returning from a mission, exhausted and agitated, and everything had taken much longer than expected. So much so that he had found himself without food during the last day of the mission. Now that he was home, he was accordingly hungry, and a quick glance at his fridge told him that life still had a trip into town in store for him today if he wanted to eat. Deciding to get it over with as quickly as possible, Adam slipped back into his coat and left his apartment, skipping the stairs by leaping over the wall to the courtyard and letting the Icarus System catch his fall.

Lazy.

Careless.

His HUD flashed angrily at him, displeased by his already exhausted state, but he ignored it, simply walking down the street instead to the nearest grocery store. The city seemed more ruined and filthy than before, and as usual, the beggars caught his attention, a bright sting in his mechanical heart.

This was his fault.

If he hadn't tried to play hero --... if he'd been faster in stopping the events at Panchaea, none of this would have happened. In theory, every single death caused by or because of the Incident, be it extremist attacks or murders on the street, the camps, Golem, the torn apart families, the orphans... all of it was on HIM.

The thought slowed his steps as the guilt came crashing down on him once more, like he had almost every night since Alaska, getting stronger and stronger with every global news story about attacks and bombings ... or suicides. He was only so strong. He could only fight it so long before it seeped through the cracks in his mind, ready to drown him in a million unheard cries for help from a thousand voices... or the demands for justice from the man who had essentially murdered them. And it was getting harder and harder not to listen.

"Wrench!"

The call came from somewhere behind him, but his reflexes were sluggish after over a week of constant high alertness, and so he turned too late to block the blow, but just in time for it to connect with his jaw, sending him staggering backwards from the force of it. He caught himself against the wall of a building, whirling around again to face whoever had struck him, but by then, the second blow was already colliding with his stomach, and it was not a mere fist this time, either. The irony of being hit with a literal wrench was not lost on Adam, even as he wheezed for breath. His vision flickered briefly. 

“Fucking aug!”

When the EMP burst hit him, his vision went entirely black for a moment, and he flailed around in the darkness, hoping against hope to keep his attackers away from him, but his efforts at self-defence were commented with laughter and the tip of a boot buried in his stomach, causing him to instinctively curl up, coughing and gasping. 

When he regained control over his senses, at least, if not his body, he struggled to listen past the hammering of his own heart in his ears, to try to hear or feel them coming and block whatever they would throw at him next. And he did hear them, once more, before both his artificial and biological systems shut down, leaving him unconscious:  
“You’ll fetch a nice price with your high-end tech. You already know how to follow orders, too. You’ll be fine…"

"… if you behave.”


	2. Welcome To Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, a choice is no choice at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand here we go, into the thick of it. All I can say is I'm sorry.  
> The end of this chapter features some rather graphic rape - feel free to skip that if it makes you uncomfortable. I'd say the moment you and Adam realise what's going on, you're not missing anything vital to the plot if you skip ahead.

When Adam woke to the sound of an engine and the ground rattling around him, it was so dark he briefly throught his systems had experienced some lasting damage from the EMP attack. He tried to remember where exactly he'd been attacked, tried to map out a route to the Time Machine from his memory of Prague's streets and an educated guess of the path he'd taken to the shops. He would get there. Even if he had to _crawl_ and blindly feel his way along the walls, he would get there, and Koller would fix his sight, and then he would find whoever had attacked him... Not even he himself knew what he would do after that.

But then his eyes adjusted to the penumbra around him and he was met with several tired, exhausted faces and a terrified silence in what he assumed to be the inside of a van. How long had he been out? How much good would memorising the rest of the way do him? The van turned left, but without an idea where they were going, how far they had been on their way, or at least which cardinal direction they had set out in, there was little hope of figuring out either their destination, or the way back home. Or - as much of a home as Adam could call Prague's unwelcoming arms.

"Wh's goin' on?" He demanded groggily into the half-darkness around him, blinking to get some dust out of his eyes, but when he moved to rub his face and found his arms chained to the wall above his head instead, he could answer the question himself before a woman next to him spoke up in only slightly accented English:

"They're taking us away," she whispered, as if they could come in at any second to punish her for even mentioning them. "Out of the country. They told us to be quiet."

Adam closed his eyes, nodding solemnly. Wonderful. Absolutely _wonderful_. And on top of that, he still didn't have any food... or a strong whisky to ease the blow of such grave news. His lip was throbbing and when he licked it, he could taste dried blood - one of the attacks must have split it.

In the grand scheme of things, with the bruises all over his torso that hurt with every breath and the very real situation of future slavery looming at the horizon, one might call a split lip the least of his worries. But the annoyance it made him feel gave him something to focus on that was not the blinding panic that tightened his chest in the face of his chained hands and the dark inside of a slaver's van. He tried to activate a few of his augmentations - his smart vision, at the very least - but found himself unable to access most of them. And _that_ finally sparked the panic he had been struggling to fend off. He strained against his bonds, tugging and tearing and _roaring_ in frustration when all his efforts earned him were sore shoulders.

_Trapped._

He felt the weight of a shoulder brushing against his own and turned his head to see the woman who had answered him. She was watching him with concern in her eyes, but he could see understanding beyond that, even when she shook her head.

"We all tried," she whispered. "Some here have construction augs. No one can break them. You should save your strength."  
  
A part of Adam hated the fact that she was right, hated that he had just come home from a week long mission, hated that he had been careless enough to let a couple of thugs get the jump on him, hated that he was too exhausted to break free, too exhausted to  _think_ , to come up with a plan that would rescue them all. 

 _This is your fault, too!,_ the voice in his mind snarled.  _This is a result of Panchaea. You deserve this._

But they didn't. None of them did, no matter what lives they may have led before this. If not for his failure, none of them would be here, and that meant it was his responsibility to get them back out, one way or another.

"Right," he muttered, looking around properly at each of the others for the first time. And then he froze.

A child. There was a child, cowering behind another woman, with clean streaks on her dirt-smeared face from tears she had not yet learned to suppress. The mere fact of her presence in the van felt like walking headfirst into a brick wall, and Adam nearly choked on his own breath from sheer shock. She wasn't chained to the wall, but her hands were still tied together and she seemed absolutely terrified. 

_Protect her._

Adam shuddered, fighting to focus his thoughts again. He barely noticed when the van stopped. 

"We need to get out of here. Can anyone--"

He was interrupted when the doors slammed open, briefly offering the captives a glimpse of the night sky, before a man entered. Built like a mountain and obviously angry.

"Did you not hear me," he snarled, "when I told you little  _fucks_ to be quiet? You're lucky we made it across the border without an inspection, because otherwise, all of you would have been in for a world of pain. Luckily, only one of you is now. Consider it a punishment."

He reached out with a terrible, greedy smile on his face, and Adam's heart skipped a beat when he saw  _who_ he was reaching for.

"Stop!" he hissed, struggling to break free once more against better knowledge. "She's what, ten? Fuck's sake, she's not gonna be of any use to you, let her go!"

The man let his hand fall, and the girl disappeared behind the woman's back again, but then the slaver turned slowly, a calm, intelligent rage behind his eyes that was not usually associated with a man as bulky as him.

He reached out, grabbing Adam by the throat and hoisting him up as far as the chains allowed.

"She your daughter?" he mocked. "Has no one told you to stop caring? Do you want to volunteer, then?" 

Adam bared his teeth at him, almost laughing. He had been in so many fights in his life, some roughing up by a second-class thug was hardly going to speed up his pulse. The worst that could come of it were broken bones, and those would heal over time. And if they were the price for keeping him away from the girl, then it was hardly too much to pay.

"Go on, then," he snapped. "But make it worth my time."

The man only smiled at him, a darkness in his eyes that  _did_ get to Adam, despite his forced calm. There was something unsettling about that smile, something taunting, as if the other knew something he didn't.

_Oh come on. Some pain, some blood, and then it's over. You can handle it._

"Caleb! Cut him loose."

The thought jolted him from his thoughts and he glared at the man again, willing his body to relax as the slaver turned his attention back to him. 

"A warning, my friend. Sudden freedom has given others... ideas in the past. I would advise you not to have any yourself, or Caleb here will shoot the girl before you can get to him. Are we on the same page?"

... Ah, there it was again, the intelligence in the slaver's cruel eyes. Adam simply nodded. He would find another way to turn this around. When his hands were free, Caleb immediately tied them together behind his back again, while the other waved for the remaining captives to sit against the wall, clearing a small space in the middle of the van for the punishment he had planned. Adam forced himself to take deep, even breaths. It wouldn't be long. It was never long - the fights, the beatings. Under five minutes, all of the ones he had had in his life, but the pain dragged it out, made it seem like hours instead of minutes, and the trick was to keep counting the seconds. Because seconds would keep passing, no matter what, and living and breathing from one to the next would get him through this, just like it got him through everything else.

And then the hand around his throat was back and the world  _shifted_ with a sudden force, leaving him staring at the floor of the van with a surprised little grunt. 

 _What_?

The hand tightened, pinning him down roughly, and another joined it on his shoulder, sliding down his back until it reached the hem of his trousers.

_What? ... No._

_No._

Adam tensed. Laughter answered him as the realisation sunk in.

"Get off!"

"I intend to."

He could see movement from the corner of his eye. Caleb was raising his gun in preparation and someone was shielding the girl and pulling her face into their chest. None of them could escape what was about to happen, not in such a confined space, but if she didn't have to watch it...

 _Run_ , he begged, watching what he could see of the girl.  _You're the only one who's not chained. The doors are still open. Just run._

And then what? Where would she go, in the middle of nowhere, in a country she probably didn't even know the language of, and without anyone to provide for her? Who would listen to an augmented child these days? ... and who would care? The metal of the gun caught the light of a street lamp outside and Adam felt the fight leave his shoulders. No. She couldn't run, and the only way out of this was the one he had already chosen. 

_It's just sex._

_... It's just pain._

It wouldn't kill him. And if he wasn't dead, he could find a way out and plan at least two very gruesome murders.

"Get it over with," he whispered through gritted teeth, letting the other spread his legs and gritting his teeth as he felt a rough finger prepare him, trying not to make a sound so those who weren't watching wouldn't have to  _hear_.

"Well if you're going to be like that..." the slaver drawled, flipping him over onto his back and pinning him down by his throat again, cutting off his air, "I have other ways of making you sing." 

He forced Adam's legs apart a little more, lining himself up before pushing _in_ , claiming him inch by inch through sheer strength and force, with little regard for the augmented's comfort. he continued to thrust his hips, forcing his cock deeper with every little motion, until he himself stilled and let Adam's faint struggles take over as his air began to run out. Every time his control slipped and panic gripped him, every time he moved, he impaled himself a little further, until there was nothing left but searing pain and cut off, agonising gasps, blinding him and wiping out any reason, any control he had. One finger, no matter how thick, had not nearly been enough to prepare him for  _this_ , and Adam was struggling now despite the pain, until the hand lifted from his throat long enough for him to take a deep, shuddering, pained gasp of a breath.

"You're a pretty boy," the slaver teased. "Better get used to it now, pretty boys are rare where you're going." He paused, laughing to himself. "But they have their ways. Will turn you into a proper little bitch in no time... I can see it now. You, on your knees, begging for cock. You'll need it more than nu-poz, you'll see. Nothing like a good fuck to keep freaks like you in their place."

He began to thrust in earnest, then, keeping his movements harsh and painful on purpose. It was a melody to him, the slapping of skin against skin, the pained grunts and small little gasps his little pet could manage when he eased up on his throat, the horrified murmurs of the other captives around them... and he could compose it any way he wished. And perhaps it was time for a change in key.

He leaned back, pulling all the way out, and stood, finally letting go of Adam's throat, his cock still jutting proudly from his hips, waiting and throbbing impatiently for more attention. 

"Up," he commanded, keeping his eyes on his victim. Adam complied slowly, trying to somehow get to his knees without moving at all. Everything hurt, from his hole over his spine up to his throat and his lungs, but he managed, so mehow, to haul himself to his knees, glaring up at the slaver.

"Beg to suck it. Beg me to fuck you, go on. Put on a little show for your audience, slut, tell me how much you need to be filled. Show me what a good pet you can be,  _convince_ me."

Silence answered him.

"I won't ask again."

The soft click of a gun's safety being switched off echoed in the silence, and following it came a hasty, rough  _"Please."_ .

"Not good enough. Now _beg_ like the little bitch you are and  _maybe_ I won't have everyone in here killed. I know you can to it."

Adam looked up at him with searing hatred in his eyes.

_It's just sex._

"Please,  _Sir_ , may I suck your cock?"

"Why?"

Oh, he was going to have to go all the way, wasn't he? No way out of it but the one laid out in front of him. He closed his eyes, swallowing a few times to make his vocal chords work again.

_Protect her._

"... because - ... Because I need it. Need to be filled. Need to be fucked by a strong, big cock, Sir, please..."

The laughter told him he'd hit the spot. That, and the sudden taste of precome on his lips as the slaver's cock pushed against them, demanding entrance.

 _Bite him_ , his mind shrieked. But the gun was still there, in the edge of his vision, and he wouldn't get to his feet in time to stop the bullet, so he simply relaxed his jaw, letting the slaver's thrusts part his lips. He cringed at the taste, instinctively pulling back, but a firm hand in his hair stopped his efforts and he was pulled forward again until he choked. The other sneered, thrusting even harder, and while Adam struggled to pull back enough to  _breathe_ , the slaver followed, moaning obscenely at the contractions around his cock. 

"God, yes," he growled. "Swallow it down. Good boy... Oh, I'll teach you to enjoy this. Teach you to  _come_ from it, like any good slut should. You're nothing without a dick in at least one of your holes, I'll make you see."

When he pulled back again, his cock was glistening, and Adam doubled over, coughing and spitting, breathing rapidly.

"Now lie down and spread your legs like you mean it, whore, and ask me to fuck you."

He did. There was nothing else left to do, not with the gun still pointed at the girl, and so he let gravity pull him down, before spreading his legs with more effort than he ever remembered it taking before.

"Please," he whispered again, though he knew it wasn't enough. "Fuck me, Sir."

When the slaver slammed back into him, the pain was almost too much, and oh, how he would have welcomed unconsciousness right now. But as his back scraped against the floor of the van with every brutal thrust, all he could allow himself was to tune out of the events, letting his mind wander.

Just don't pay attention. Just let him get off and this will be over. Just get through the next second. And then the next. Step by step until he's--

"Oh no you don't you little cunt!"

A strong, calloused, and inexplicably _slick_  hand around his own cock, stroking in time with the thrusts, brought Adam back to the cramped van in no time at all, and he gasped from the unexpected pleasure of it.

_It's just sex._

The words were losing their meaning - and he was losing his mind.

_It's..._

His hips were moving on their own, thrusting into the slaver's hand, chasing the pleasure that pulled his mind away from the pain.

_... just sex._

Adam came first, but he pulled the slaver over the edge with him, and the exhaustion allowed him to block out the snickering from the two men for a moment, until the knowledge of what just happened slammed into him. He rolled over as soon as his captor pulled back, fighting to push himself to his knees. He stayed like that for a while, coughing and wheezing, then clumsily pulled his trousers back up again. He crawled away from the centre of the van and into one of its corners, curling up with his back to the other captives and his face shielded by two walls. He didn't even stir when Caleb roughly pulled his arms up to chain him back to the wall - albeit with a little more leeway than before. Instead, he simply stared at the wall, fighting his own body as he tried not to tremble, until the two men had left, locking the doors of the van again. Seconds later, the engine started back up again and they continued on their way to whatever the future had in store for them.

There were no words in the darkness, out of fear of further punishment, no questions for his wellbeing, no whispered thank yous, but someone draped one of the thin blankets they had been given over him, briefly squeezing his shoulder before leaving him alone again. He didn't turn to see who it was, only let his mind go until an uneasy sleep claimed him.

_What have you gotten yourself into?_


End file.
